Marathon moaning

Today begins week 8 of my 16 week marathon training programme. My marathon training takes up the single biggest part of my brain at the moment. At the moment I have to confess that I'm getting a bit fed up of it.

When I finish my Monday run, I start thinking about my Wednesday speed training session (tempo run, hill run, mile repeats or Yasso 800s) - how fast will I go? will I manage it? how much will it hurt? Then, even when I'm stretching after Thursday's recovery run, I'm already thinking about my Saturday long run - what other workouts will I have the energy for before it? what will I eat on Friday? what will I wear, what fuel will I take? what's my route going to be?

And when I'm recovering, I'm thinking about what I'm eating (and wishing I wanted to eat things that aren't just chocolate), procrastinating about stretching, and contemplating which part of me is aching most at that moment in time - usually a choice between my hip flexor, my anterior deltoid, and my foot. Although right now my throat's pretty sore too.

Everything I do, I see it in relation to my marathon training. Does my college class in Current Exercise Trends work my legs too soon before my long run? If I work on Tuesday night, will I be able to run on Wednesday? Should I visit family the day after the tune-up half marathon race, or the day of teh 20 mile training run? It feels like I'm programming my life round my training programme. 

Last year, my marathon training only lasted for 8 weeks - this year it's 16. So I've never had to work my body for this long before. I need to find new resolve - mental strength is required, because this is something I've never been through before.

I'm not considering quitting, I still want to run this marathon (Edinburgh on May 26th) and I want to finish in under 4 hours. But unless I continue to remember that really, really want it, my body's probably going to quit on my brain's behalf.

The hideous weather isn't helping. It's the middle of March and there's been snow every day for the last week. I ran in a full-on blizzard a fortnight ago. Yesterday's 18 miles had to be run on the relatively tedious cycle paths and when I was done, I didn't feel joyous, I really  just felt relieved.

Right, that's enough moaning. The more I talk up the down, the lower I'll get! Sunday is recovery day and it's all right to feel tired today.
Tomorrow I'll be back on the pavement.
Tomorrow I'll feel better about myself again.
Tomorrow I'll try again to stop eating sweeties and chocolate like Augustus Gloop.
Tomorrow is the first day of the school holidays so hopefully I'll have a fortnight of better rest, more foam rolling and a general bit of R&R.

If you've got any tips to help me find the mental strength to get through this wobble, please share them with me!

BodyAttack

Ooh, did I just find my favourite gym class ever?!

There's nothing new about BodyAttack, it's just that I've never tried it before. I think it's the 'attack' bit that put me off, but it turns out that BodyCombat is the martial arts class and that BodyAttack isn't. Edinburgh Leisure helpfully describes the class as "A simple, motivating and satisfying workout which will deliver results... using high energy interval training techniques", which doesn't exactly give much away and is probably why I've avoided it for so long.

D'y'know what it was? Aerobics!

When I say aerobics, I think of these key components:

• Start the move. Do it four times. Change the move. Do it four times. Repeat.
• Have music on.
• Do different sets of moves to different  music.
• Use these moves: grapevines, sidesteps, run forward, clap. Jumping jacks, squats, lunges. Kicks, skaters, plyometric jumps. Knee lifts, knee repeats. (plenty of old skool aerobics moves!)
• No weights. 
• Abs track at the end, on a mat.
• Sweat plenty.

What a buzz!

I felt really nicely knackered by the end of it, nothing totally killed me (well, a final set of squat pulses at the end was kinda horrible, but this was my second workout of the day) and I felt like I'd 'done enough', which is a feeling I don't get from many classes.

It helped that the teacher at Meadowbank, Vicky, was really good - no nonsense, great cueing, clear demonstrations; that the class wasn't so busy that I couldn't see; and the music was - well, it was okay, I won't say it was any better than that - more crowd-pleasers would've been good.

I liked it better than Zumba because I didn't feel like an idiot doing daft moves.
I liked it better than Sh'Bam because I didn't feel like a complete idiot doing really daft moves.
I liked it better than BodyPump because I sweated plenty and got to jump about.
I liked it better than BodyCombat because there was more counting to 4 and only really easy technique.

BodyAttack is now my gym class of the moment! What's yours?

Chilly for March

I'm marathon training again. It's week six. I didn't do a week six last year, I didn't start until week 8. So a full 16-week marathon training programme is new to me. It's fantastic. Well, it usually is, but I'm a little bit tired today.

I ran 16 miles, the second time in three weeks I've done that distance. The first time, I managed an even split after a super-speedy final mile. Today I managed a negative split the same way - about half a minute faster in the second eight miles than in the first. Yay!

When I got home I went for a cold bath. Cold baths - a form of cryotherapy, which sounds so science fiction and Doctor Who that it makes me love it - is recommended to reduce swelling and stiffness after a tough run, and promote a speedy recovery. As somebody who really hates rest days, anything that can help me recover faster is worth a go.

Today was my third cold bath, the first two after challenging speed sessions. I haven't had the organisational skills for an ice bath - I imagine you'd need a fair old bit of ice to have even a slushy bath and my freezer's too full of old fish fingers and bags of veggies for that. I'm hoping that water from the cold tap does the job nearly as well.

So I sit for ten minutes in a hip-deep bath, still in my running hat and jacket, browsing Facebook and reading Dean Karnazes. My kids look bemused. My husband ignored me (how can you ignore someone wearing a hat and jacket in the bath?!)

These ten minutes of cold take more stamina than the two hours and twenty minutes that promted them. After the first minute my breathing returns to normal (instead of that juddery, catching, shallow breathing that you normally only do when you get into the sea on holiday) and after that, it's not actually too bad. 

Well, not too bad except for my feet. My feet and especially my toes hate the cold. They properly hurt, like somebody's stomped on them with big boots. They hurt worse than any part of my body hurts while I'm running. I haven't found a way to really keep them out of the water while I'm soaking my legs. My feet hate the cold bath.

But the rest of me? Well like any recovery solution, it's hard to tell if it works. Unless you do just one leg, you don't have a control experiment, right? I do know that after the last two ice baths, (which were following speed sessions which push me harder than I've been pushed before) I haven't had DOMS, and I've been able to continue dancing, walking, zumba class - albeit at a lower intensity than if I hadn't run! So I suspect it's beneficial. Although I know in my heart of hearts that learning how to take proper rest days would be better.

I'm battling my old hip flexor demon too (with an icepack while I type!) which is another incentive for the cold bath. So far the icing, pilates and trying to keep my hip in alignment when I run seem to be keeping it together. Long may it continue.

Thinking of a cold bath? Go on, give it a shot. I recommend waiting until you're so tired you'd sit down anywhere - that's when it starts to look inviting!

Buying a car

So, my family and I need a car. In as much as anybody in Edinburgh *needs* a car, since in this city, everything is close, the bus service is really good and nobody in my family does antisocial hours. But we've decided we like having a car and we want to keep having one.

We don't really care about cars, as long as they've got four wheels and get us from A to B. So we enlisted the help of our friend Robert, who negotiated a good deal for my mum's recent car purchase, to take us car shopping today. By the time we left the house, we'd decided our budget and specifications - five doors, petrol, 1.2 engine. And that was pretty much it - we aren't fussy.

But when we got to Arnold Clark I started to get fussy! Faced with a real lack of cars that met our specifications, we got into a discussion about a dull dingy grey Astra, which looked really clunky, and was parked next to a big puddle. That was the moment I realised I cared. Because although the car fitted all our specifications, and we got offered a good price, I didn't even want to cross that puddle to get to it.

When I'm a qualified personal trainer, turning up to meet clients with a car full of swiss ball, kettlebells and yoga mats, do I want them to see me coming in a middle-sized clunky grey dullmobile? Will that inspire my clients with confidence that I'm a dynamic, energetic, fun trainer who's going to help them achieve their goals? Or will it make them think I'd rather be working in a bank?

So today I learned that actually, I do care about the car I drive and what it says about me. Which surprised me. Sadly it means that I'll be spending some of the week looking at cars, and inevitably meeting more car salesmen. I hope they aren't all as annoying as the one we saw today - because although he shook my hand before he shook the hands of Robert or my hubby (good tactic I thought!), by the end of our session he'd made me feel that I didn't deserve a nice car and that I should be terribly grateful for the favours he thought he was doing us.

He was a complete twat.

My 2012

So, the challenge is twelve months, twelve sentences. Punctuation is positively encouraged.

January: In a month where I went on a family holiday for a week and still didn’t eat any chocolate or drink any coffee, I discovered Change Your Life is 7 Days by Paul McKenna which changed my life, and also fell in love with hooping (that's not me in the vid btw).

February: it was a bellydance month when I performed with the Baladi Blues Band, my first time ever dancing with a live band which I LOVED; was invited to compere the annual Edinburgh University African and Arabic Dance Society hafla; and for the first time in a while, ran 13 miles without injury or too much ill effect.

March:  I got my act together to apply for a college place to study fitness, ran the Meadows Half Marathon in 1hr 45m, which was a good time despite sleet, and won a place in the Edinburgh Marathon courtesy of the ESPC!

April: I learned a lot about myself as I began my marathon training; had an excellent weekend of rehearsals with our bellydance troupe, The Peacock Project, working towards and completing the choreography for our entry to this year’s Shimmy in The City competition; and had an interview at Jewel & Esk college for a place on their Fitness HNC, winning a place despite there being 5 applications for every place.

May: I completed my first marathon in 4 hours, 19 minutes after only 8 weeks of training, on a really hot day, as well as rehearsing hard for and performed in Club Bellydance at The Pleasance, with the Bellydance Superstars, the biggest bellydance gig I’ve ever been involved in.

June: I enjoyed seeing the Olympic Torch at Holyrood and I lost my toenail after the marathon! But also there were lots of bellydance highlights this month, including teaching children’s classes, organising and running both the Leith Festival Hafla and the Musselburgh Hafla, and performing in Glasgow.

July: Brought the summer holidays and the brilliant Big Dance weekend where I organised four performances, a bellydance flashmob and performed with The Peacock Project for the first time.

August: I Ran the Coach & Horses 10M race in Lancaster, went for an induction day at Jewel & Esk College and got offered the chance of a last-minute place at Telford College, which I accepted, and started full-time education for the first time since 1996 eek!

September: I completed the Glasgow half marathon, found it difficult and learned that caffeinated energy gels make me terribly grumpy; held plank for four minutes, leading to ‘not disgracing myself’ in a team challenge at college and a whopping increase in my personal college confidence; started training in earnest for the Jedburgh Half Marathon, following a training programme to improve my speed and hopefully do a PB of 1hour 45; competed at Shimmy in the City bellydance festival in London with the Peacock Project which was an amazing, challenging, growing experience, and I survived the terrible disappointment of not winning.

October: I had a rubbish experience in the Dunbar 10M hill race, involving my first ever “getting lost in a race” incident; got sick and injured and failed to PB in the Jedburgh Half Marathon, learning that the training programme I’d chosen had too much running and not enough cross-training, but still finished Jedburgh in 1hr 54 and really enjoyed it; attended a brilliant book festival event by Dr Andrew Murray, ultramarathon runner and public health fitness champion; enjoyed a 7-day pass to Edinburgh Leisure, passed my first aid qualification, quit booze until my birthday, and continued to do fine at college, but realised that I had a long way to go when it comes to gym instruction and remembered how rotten it feels to be rubbish at something.

November: I won a free gym membership in a raffle and enjoyed adding gym work to my workout routine, and improving my gym confidence; I made my tenth donation of blood; I decided to lose 3kg before my birthday.

December: Held plank for 6 minutes, completing my November plank challenge; and hit my target weight in time for my birthday!

End of Term review

College is over for the Christmas holidays and it seems like a good time to reflect on the first four months of my HND course at Edinburgh College.

So, how's college going? It's brilliant.

I last left full time education was in 1996 (when some of my classmates weren't even born) when I finished my honours degree in Politics. At the time I thought I'd enjoyed my time at University, but I don't think I had nearly as much fun in those five years as I've had in the last four months. (Although in those days I could tell you who was top of the hit parade and knew how to dress like a student, I can't do those things any more.)

First of all, on a basic level, I get to go somewhere warm and comfortable four days a week, where people have prepared things for me to learn, which I'm interested in. And every so often, they prepare wee hoops for me to jump through, so I can see whether I'm doing all right or not, and then they tell me whether I've done well or not. That is FUN. I don't have to be responsible for anybody else, I get to dress the way I want, and the coffee is very cheap.

The teaching quality is variable. Some of the staff on the course are great, committed and easy to understand, delivering the quality content in a professional way and willing to work with us to help us get through the course. There are other staff who I've had to learn to get along with, which has been constructive and valuable, since we all come from different backgrounds and we can't expect to hit it off with everybody straight away. And then there are others who make me wonder what quality control the college implements.

The content of the course is fine - learning to instruct clients in the gym is obviously useful;  the basis of nutrition, anatomy and physiology which we'll build on as the course goes on; health screening for future gym clients has been quite low on content but interested - and I've already passed my First Aid certificate, which is great!

As far as how I'm doing, all seems fine - I'm passing my assessments and assignments without too many difficulties, and even the practical gym instruction assessment I was so worried about went fine.

I'm unsettled by how easily I've taken to the uniform. It's not compulsory but the gym trousers and big hoodie are really very comfortable, and it's much easier to wear them than it is to lug a change of clothes around all day. I need to be careful I'm not lowering my personal standards - I got a new pair of cherry red DMs for my birthday so hopefully that'll help me keep up my sartorial qualities. 

The revelation has been the class, which has turned out to be amazing. There are about 20 of us, I'm the oldest by a decade and I'm twice the age of some of my classmates, and while I don't ever *forget* that, it's a whole lot less relevant than I expected it to be. They're a great group of people, much more tolerant of a mature student than I was as an undergraduate, and there isn't a day that goes back at college without me laughing out loud.

One of the tougher things I've come to terms with is my inner lech. Plenty of the lads in the class are in extremely fine physical condition, which, frankly, makes the days pass a bit more pleasurably. Now, in my defence, I come from a dancing background, and if a dancer looks great or does a move beautifully, I will watch her, enjoy watching, and usually tell her so. This is because she's a dancer, a performer, who expects to be watched, dances in order to be watched. It's part of who I am! However, this doesn't translate terribly well to a gym environment, particularly when the individuals are young males.

It got to the stage where, when one lad was doing chin-ups, another lad rushed over and put his hands over my eyes, saying "you're not to watch, Elspeth - it'll get you going." What a reality check - was I a cougar? The resident old lady enjoying the boys working out a *bit too much*? I took a good look at what I was doing and I summed it up as "I appreciate their bodies - but I don't want to hold them close to mine!". I appreciate the work that they've done to build muscle, get rid of any fat, and seeing a well-executed deadlift is pretty much as good as a well-executed bellydance technique. And there's no doubt I'd be the same about the girls in the class if they were buff or ripped - but the truth is that they aren't really! (Sorry girls, but I think you know it's true!)

I feel that I have a "mummy" role in the class sometimes too, especially as I bake cakes and cookies for the class to share. (I thought that a fitness class would shun such sugary treats, but I reckoned without those boys whose muscles mean they "just can't eat enough" (can you *imagine*?!), and white choc chip cookies are very popular.) Then my niece ask whether this wasn't tantamount to not only being a lech, but asking the young things if I could give them sweeties before I took them to see some puppies.

Our Christmas night out was a great night - I even ended up in a nightclub where I occasionally forgot that I was the oldest person there!

You get your photie taken in clubs nowadays. Who knew?

So the last four months of 2012 have been brilliant. I've loved college and seem to have managed to balance it without too much disruption to my family or work. I've just asked my son who says the only difference is that I take him to school less (his Daddy takes him a couple of days a week now), but that it's fine because I'll have a better job afterwards. Wise beyond his years (this is the same boy who told me that ATP was "20p short of a pound, mummy.")

Fingers crossed for more time at college like these last four months!

Failure isn't an option

I'm feeling challenged.

As part of my HND I'm studying for a CYQ certificate in instructing gym-based exercise. A big part of it is showing people how to safely and effectively use gym equipment - essentially teaching. And it's my worst class.

So far in the rest of my course - anatomy, nutrition, first aid, health screening - is going fine. Passing assessments and handing in assignments is good for me, I've had a couple of corrections to make but I'm passing.  But this class - sheesh. It's been a loooong time since I've felt this inadequate.

What adds to my insecurity is that a lot of the others on the course are really well-versed in teaching gym equipment. Some have teaching qualifications already, or have worked in a gym, or studied the same things in previous courses. But me - I'm used to working out at home. Most of what I've learned I've learned from DVDs, none of it with big weights or barbells or gym machines, and although I'm quite confident in my technique, I've never had it scrutinised.

And in class, we're having to demonstrate to each other - which is even more nerve-wracking, because I'm having to pretend to teach a deadlift to somebody who's done more deadlifts than I've ever done, who's taught deadlifts, who probably eats deadlifts for dinner and then dreams about them. There's nothing like knowing somebody knows more than you do to wobble your confidence!

And I'm not used to practical assessments. I like books and essays, writing things down and having people read them. I don't like having to be judged on what I say out loud! I've been teaching dance regularly for eight years now, and it's only recently that I've felt really confident in what I'm doing. Will it seriously take me that long to feel happy teaching in the gym?!

Another compounding factor is that the class takes place on a Friday, so even though I'm motivated by my own inadequacies during and after the class, I have managed quite successfully to go home afterwards and forget all about it!

I hate being bad at things. I hate walking out of that class knowing I was in the bottom 20%. I hate the insecurity of thinking that I might fail. I hate feeling inadequate.

So it just can't be an option. I've got to pass this unit. I've got to be bloody awesome in the gym. Failure isn't an option. Adequacy isn't either. I have got to NAIL THIS THING!

Forget everybody else in the class and don't think about how much they know. I have got to focus on what I do. Being that best me that me can be, as Cookie Monster says. I know what's required in teaching - being confident, knowledgeable, having stock phrases to rely on so you don't always have to think about what you're explaining. Being comfortable and focusing on your student. I can do this!!

My assessment is in FOUR WEEKS, when I'll be assessed on my ability to teach 8 exercises - although there are like, 35 to chose from? If I can perfect a few every week - using books, YouTube and some practical gym experience to work from - I'll have plenty to get me through.

Life often feels better with a plan. Hope I can action this one - time management's going to be the struggle, with a couple of deadlines every week for the next few weeks. But since there's no way I'm going to flunk this class, I'd better get the hell on with it.